


Snowdrops

by FlutteringPhalanges



Category: Epidemiya | To the Lake (TV)
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Lake Vongozero, Life in a fictional pandemic, Misha x Polina, Polina x Misha, To The Lake - Freeform, To The Lake Netflix, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlutteringPhalanges/pseuds/FlutteringPhalanges
Summary: Starting to adjust to their new lives inside the wrecked ship on Lake Vongozero, Polina discovers that she is about to experience far more than simply surviving in a virus infested world. An unplanned pregnancy with Misha tests the relationship of not only the couple, but those around them. Can the group continue to exist in harmony, or will bumps along the way dismantle it all?
Relationships: Anna/Sergey, Lyonid/Marina, Pavel/Ira, Polina/Misha
Comments: 14
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello "To The Lake" fans! This story was inspired by a few things. Throughout the show, I felt there were a few moments (no spoilers) where it hinted at Polina possibly being pregnant next season. So, I decided to have some fun. For the sake of this story, everything happened as it did with the exception of the boat burning down. Also, Misha is a character with Asperger's. I really wanted to try my best to capture it as properly and respectively as I could. I watched clips of him over and over and read a few articles. If my characterization causes any offense, I am truly sorry. I meant nothing by it. Anyway, here's chapter one!

She was late. That was just as simply as one could put it. At first, a few days passed and Polina tried not to let it plague her mind. It wasn't like her menstrual cycle was clock work. In the past, there'd been times where it'd show up unexpectedly. But this was different. She knew it was different.

A week went by, then two, and by the third, the tell-tale signs were there. Sore breasts. Nausea that on more than one occasion sent her stumbling through the old boat in search for a place she could vomit without being seen. And the exhaustion that tugged at her consciousness like a relentless fish trying to escape the hook embedded in its cheek as it was reeled in. Pregnant in the middle of a damn apocalypse. Talk about being on the shitty end of the stick.

"You look unwell. Are you sick?"

Polina lifted her head from where she laid curled up in a ball on the bed. Misha stood in the doorway staring back at her, his face quizzical as if trying to read her. Despite being her husband now, and the only one she truly felt at ease with in the group, he was the very last person she wanted to see at that moment. For she knew, given how intelligent he was and his exceptional memory, if he had any concept of pregnancy and its stages, Misha would figure out her condition. They didn't need Pavel for that.

"Tired." She replied, her voice unnecessarily flat. "Haven't been sleeping well lately."

There was a pause as Misha considered her words. "What are your other symptoms?" He inquired, moving closer.

When he touched her forehead, gauging her temperature, Polina attempted to avoid his hand. His face seemingly remained still. But though he struggled with emotions, the slightest glint of concern crossed his features. Carefully, he sat on the edge of the mattress, eyes fixed on her.

"It's been six weeks." He finally said after a long moment of silence. "Six weeks and four days since you and I had intercourse in that bus and due to the lack of protection and my inexperience, I ejaculated prematurely inside of you."

"You have a really attractive way of putting things." Polina sighed, sitting up. "So what?" Now it was her turn to attempt to figure out his thoughts. "What are you trying to imply?" She felt nervous, queasy in a much different way than before. "That wasn't one of our greatest moments."

"I remember reading that an embryo at six weeks is the size of a pomegranate seed." Misha said calmly. "My mom kept an array of magazines in her waiting room and out of curiosity, I read through a pregnancy journal...I have a habit of retaining facts, even those that are arguably nonsensical." He inhaled, glancing down at his feet. "...I find it weird to compare human development to fruit. It's not like we share much of the same DNA. Not like chimpanzees...but I suppose saying one's fetus looks like an ape isn't an appropriate compliment." He paused, the light bringing out the browns of his irises. "You're pregnant."

Polina swallowed hard. "You figured that out pretty quick." She chuckled, but there was no humor behind it. "Yes, you knocked me up. Guess first time's the charm…" Her voice drifted off as she looked away. "Don't worry, I know we're married and trapped in this damn place, but I'm not forcing you to be involved with any of it."

"What are you trying to say?" Misha asked, brows knitting together.

"I'm giving you an out, Misha." Polina sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It was my fault in the first place. I'm the one who seduced you and didn't take into account that...well, you didn't know what you were doing. I shouldn't have played around with you like that...before I knew that I actually did love you." She smiled weakly and shook her head. "I fucked up."

The young woman felt a hand grab her own. Glancing up, she saw that Misha was staring back at her hard. It was almost comical seeing the seriousness that had fixed itself across his face. She wasn't used to that side of him. A side that wasn't quiet. Shy. Mellow.

"You're my wife." He stated matter-of-factly. "Pregnant or not, we had an agreement. A ceremony. I don't want an out." Misha inhaled through his nose. "I know I'm not someone's first choice for a father or probably even the last choice. When you make jokes, I mostly don't-if ever, understand. I struggle to understand emotion and properly express my own. But I love you. Even if I fail to show it at times." He gripped her hand tightly. "I don't want an out." Her husband repeated. "I want you and the baby."

Polina tried to fight the tears back as her eyes began to water. Misha's look of concern only grew and it took her a moment to realize he probably thought that he'd upset her in some way. Reaching forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Somewhat taken aback by her sudden gesture, the young man returned the hug gently.

"If it's any consolation, I think you'll be a good dad." She murmured into his ear. "Much better than either of our dads…" Polina paused, wondering if it was a good idea to clarify. "And I don't mean Sergey."

They stayed like that for a good few minutes, Polina gripping onto Misha as if she feared that when she'd let go, he'd disappear. The young man gazed over her shoulder and out the window at the frozen, snow covered lake. Though he wouldn't dare admit it to his wife, Misha wasn't sure if her words were accurate. If he had the ability or was even destined to be even a decent father. Still, he made a promise. And though he functioned in what many would consider to be a different way, he loved Polina. Nothing would change that.

* * *

"Let me get this straight? You," Leonid pointed a thick finger in Misha's direction. "Got Polina. _My_ Polina, pregnant?!" There was an awkward silence before the man let out a roar of a laugh. "Honestly, kid, I didn't think you had it in you. I mean, I really didn't think you were even capable of producing...well, you know…"

"Once again, Leonid." Anna frowned deeply, her usual calm demeanor leaving whenever the man's ignorance involving her son came up. "Misha doesn't have a _disease_. There is absolutely nothing reproductively wrong with him-not that that would be any concern of yours if he did." Turning away from Leonid, she looked at the young couple. "How did this happen?"

The therapist's mind was spinning now. Maybe if she'd been more attentive. Snapped out of this fog she'd been swallowed into after learning about Sergey's infidelity. Anna massaged her temples as she looked from Polina to Misha expectantly. Though, in actuality, being oblivious to the details was probably best.

On the other end of the spectrum, Polina sat uncomfortably beside Misha. It was no surprise that the announcement wasn't taken as well as one would hope. She knew Anna's eyes were fixed on her. Blaming her for all of this. The woman was very protective of her son, and Polina becoming an important part of his life was still something Anna had to adjust to. It probably didn't help that her track record wasn't the best. Or that her father was a walking asshole. Nevertheless, she stared down at the canned sea cabbage and baked Walleye Sergey had caught ice fishing earlier.

"We had sex." Misha explained, not realizing it was a rhetorical question. "Six weeks and four days ago." His eyes flickered over to Polina before quickly adding. "I wanted it. She didn't force me."

"Maybe it's a good thing." Marina chimed in softly, chewing on her bottom lip. "A baby around here would be nice." She forced a smile, though it was evident that the idea of another child caused her chest to ache. It had only been a few months since the loss of her daughter. "I'm happy for the both of you."

"I can't seriously be the only one who sees an issue with this!" Anna countered firmly. "Neither of you are in any condition to raise a child. You're too young and we're in the middle of epidemic...possibly much, much larger!"

"Anna, don't…" Sergey said gently, trying to rest a hand on her arm. "Leave them be. Marina's right, we need…"

"Don't." Anna said, pulling away. "This is _my_ son! I'm allowed to be concerned. I don't expect you to understand." She shook her head. "None of this would've happened if…" The woman chewed on her bottom lip before swallowing. Without another word, she stood up and walked away from the table.

"Anna!" Sergey called after her. "Let's all just talk about this."

"Well...that could've gone a lot worse…" Polina muttered sarcastically, folding her arms over her chest. "Most people just say congratulations or whatever."

"Don't let her get to you." Ira said, taking a bite of her fish. Clearly, she was somewhat amused by Anna's frustration. "I'm happy for the both of you. A bit young, but that's how we started. Didn't we, Sergey?"

The man said nothing, instead digging his fork into his cabbage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Anton watching him. He offered his son a half-hearted smile before continuing to eat his meal. Clearly Polina wasn't alone in feeling out of place.

"You wouldn't happen to have any prenatal vitamins in that supply of yours, would you, Pavel?" Ira's voice was soft now, genuine.

"Not exactly prenatal vitamins per se, but I do have a few bottles of supplements that I had intended to bring to the hospital." The doctor responded. "Folate. Iron. Vitamin D. Magnesium. We-the other doctors and I, were growing desperate and tried to see if maybe adding any of those among our other attempts at a cure would show positive results. A foolish idea. But we were willing to see if there was any change."

"Most of those are in prenatal vitamins anyway." Misha commented. "They're created into a compound like other multi-supplements." Polina eyed him in surprise, still astonished by his knowledge of the subject of pregnancy. "They'll be good to take." Her husband assured her, nodding his head in deep thought. "Even if they aren't the complete pill."

"You're a walking textbook." Lyonid snorted, resting an arm around the back of Marina's chair. "Could've used someone like you around when I was in school. Write my papers and such." He laughed at his own joke, but no one joined in. "Anyway, guess we're really staying here for awhile if Polina's pregnant." He sighed, shaking his head. "Gonna try to think of it as being on a frozen cruise ship without the gambling and bottomless drinks."

Polina rolled her eyes at her father's words. Mumbling something under her breath about being done, she stood up from the table and made her way out of the room. Someone else could do the dishes. Footsteps sounded from behind her and she could distinctly hear Misha call out her name. Ignoring him, she rounded the corner and headed up towards their bedroom.

"Why did you leave?" He asked as she collapsed onto the bed. "You should really eat."

"Did you not witness the hellscape that was done there?!" She snapped, sitting up to face him. "Oh, that's right, it's not like you can comprehend it anyway!" Immediately, she regretted saying those words. Polina swallowed, biting the inside of her cheek. "Well, your mother officially hates me. I knew it would eventually happen, but not like this."

"I'm sorry if she offended you." Misha said gently. "I'm sure she didn't mean it."

"Oh no." Polina laughed heartlessly. "She meant it. She really, truly meant it." The young woman sighed and glanced down at her stomach. Inside her, a little thing was growing. The size of a pomegranate seed according to Misha. "I'm not meant for this. I'm not meant to be a mom. Your mother's right. I should just throw myself through the ice and get it over with." The alarm that sparked in Misha's expression reminded her once more of her need to work around the use of sarcasm with him. "I'm not really going to drown myself, Misha. I'm just...overwhelmed."

"Can I help?" He asked, almost sounding desperate.

There was a moment of silence before she spoke. "Just stay with me." She said softly, laying back on the bed. "Just promise not to go anywhere, okay?"

Misha nodded his head as he laid down beside her. Polina scooted closer, snuggling against his frame. She felt his hand rest on her back and a feeling of relief flooded over her. Closing her eyes, the young wife tried to put the day's events aside. She was tired and oh so much had happened.

"I'm not going anywhere." Misha swore, his voice growing distant as sleep pulled Polina away from consciousness. "I promise."

* * *

Anna actively avoided Polina. That became clear the very next day after the announcement. She rarely spoke to the girl, sitting at the opposite end of the table from her during meal times. Polina tried not to let it get to her, but as the days wore on and became weeks, the childish game her mother-in-law was playing was becoming less and less bearable. One would think a therapist would have the decency not to play mind games. Then again, Anna hadn't been herself in awhile.

As she sat by the fireplace, Polina could feel Misha's eyes on her. Normally she didn't mind, a part of her found it sort of sweet how he watched her. It was like she was a puzzle, he'd told her once, but one where no matter how often he'd tried, it'd become more difficult. But in the best way. She was fascinating. Unique. And there was always something new or wonderful that just drew him in. Never before had he felt this way about anyone. Polina was different. Special. And maybe that's why Anna seemed almost jealous. Getting used to sharing your child with their significant other was a challenging task for some to come to terms with.

"What are you staring at?" Polina asked, setting down the worn magazine she'd been mindlessly flipping through. "Do I have something on me?"

"You're thirteen weeks pregnant." Misha replied simply. "You're in your second trimester."

"At least one of us is keeping track." She sighed, resting her hand on the small swell of her stomach. "Tell me then. What do I have to look forward to now besides my clothes no longer fitting?" A small smile crossed her features. "And what fruit does it look like now?"

"It doesn't look like a fruit, it's the size of a fruit." Her husband corrected. "And a lemon. Weight gain, possible leg cramps, more frequent urination…"

"Good things, Misha." Polina expressed, letting out a long sigh. "Something that doesn't make me feel miserable?"

Her husband thought for a moment. "Well, your morning sickness should lessen. You mentioned not feeling as ill lately." His face lit up when another fact struck his mind. "In the second trimester, you should be able to feel the baby move. But since this is your first pregnancy, it might not be for a few weeks and I'll most likely not be able to feel it on the outside until much later in the trimester."

"My dad was right." His wife smirked. "You are like a textbook."

"Human anatomy is important to understand." Misha said in a surprisingly serious tone. "And I feel rather irritated that I am unable to do further research due to our circumstances." He sighed and sat down beside her. "At least we have a doctor. I don't know how many babies Pavel has delivered, but I do tend to trust people with doctorates." He paused. "Unless it is in philosophy."

"Are you...worried about me?" Polina asked hesitantly. She remembered when she professed her love to Misha only for him to exclaim how he cared for no one, not even feeling for his dying mother. "Because if you are…"

"No." Misha cut her off. "The infant mortality rate in Russia is less than one percent and even lower for mothers. Those are good statistics, not to mention we have a doctor on hand." His fingers tapped the arm of his chair as he nodded his head. "Good odds. Even if it is a home birth." A small smile crossed his features. "I was curious about the growth in population in Russia among other surrounding countries. I read an article. Perhaps I am a textbook."

Polina grinned. "Misha, did you just joke?"

The young man smiled. "Was it a success?"

His wife chuckled and leaned over, kissing his mouth lovingly. "A nice surprise." Polina stated, pulling away. She looked down at her stomach. "I'm glad you aren't worried, that makes one of us." She paused, resting a hand on her bump. "We don't have anything. Clothes. A nursery. Furniture that goes into said nursery. Anything we had for a baby was for Marina's and it was lost when we crashed. And I didn't spend time learning how to knit and make things in rehab."

"My mother will help out." Misha promised. "And maybe even Ira. She knows how to stitch."

Polina snorted. "Your mother hasn't spoken to me in weeks and Ira's method of stitching dealt with Sergey being stabbed." She shook her head in dismay. "When's my maternal side supposed to kick in?"

"Maternal instinct kicks in after birth." Her husband said, then noticing his wife's silence added. "But you're only in your second trimester and a lot of stress factors are going on. I'm sure your hormones and chemicals will kick in soon."

"You're very blunt, you know that?" Polina smirked, leaning over to kiss him again. "It's surprisingly hot. You're like my own personal tutor. Or professor. Whichever you find more appealing."

"Unfortunately, I didn't have the chance to go to university..." Misha explained as his wife straddled his waist. "So I don't have a degree…" He saw how hard Polina was staring at him. That familiar look in her eyes that made his stomach bubble and send heat tingling throughout his body. "You weren't implying I was actually an educator."

"No." Polina admitted with a shrug, looming over him. "But we can go upstairs and I can teach _you_ a thing or two…" She paused. "That's if you want to, of course." When Misha nodded briskly, his wife smiled and stood up. She held out her hand. "Come on then." Polina smiled. "I could use a good distraction."


	2. Chapter Two

"Hey. Look, I realize I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but I feel the circumstances outway everything else."

Sergey watched as Anna silently loaded logs of firewood from one pile to the next. It had begun to snow and her chestnut hair was flecked with tiny snowflakes. Sighing, he moved to help her, even though the task at hand was meaningless. Nothing needed rearranging, the therapist was busying herself. Unable to return to her destroyed journals, he could only assume that she found some productivity in this instead.

"What's there to talk about?" Anna finally said, heaving her armful onto the ever growing mound. "I stated my thoughts clearly. I've spoken my piece. There's no reason for me to go into it anymore."

The fuel behind her outburst was gone, and once more Anna had regressed back to her distant self. A new character born from the confrontation with Ira. The truth behind her diaries, secrets of deception and manipulation. The pain of Sergey's infidelity. Though Misha was back, safe and alive, she was still lost in a fog. One that no one seemed to be able to pull her out of. Unpredictable, even the therapist's own knowledge of psychology seemed to fail her.

"Everyone knows your opinion." Her ex lover agreed, trying to take a few logs out of her hands. "But for everyone's sake, including yours and especially Misha's and Polina's, you need to come to terms with it. Whether you want it to happen or not, they're having a baby. We should make the most of what could be a really good thing."

Anna let out a quiet, heartless chuckle that took Sergey slightly aback. "They love each other. I've known for a while and I am happy Misha is able to experience such a wonderful thing. But you know Polina and her history, and have grown to know Misha as well. They're not ready to become parents. It takes more than love to raise a child."

"We've all made mistakes in our past." The man replied, grunting as he tossed the wood. "Nobody's perfect, Anna."

The woman visibly stiffened at his words. She knew that this statement extended past her son and daughter-in-law. To their own relationship and its deeply grounded flaws. How Sergey didn't despise after everything she'd done was beyond her comprehension. Or perhaps he did and she was too far gone to recognize it. Whatever the case, the life they had built together was in shambles. Shattered into pieces that seemed pointless to mend back together.

"Somethings can't be undone no matter how hard you try or wish that you could." Anna finally spoke, her voice soft as it cut through the frigid air. "Ira was right. What I did to you, her, and Anton...it goes against everything I stand for. What I thought I did. I just wanted the perfect family. A good father for Misha. I wanted you, but you were never really mine to take."

"And yet, I chose you." Sergey insisted. "Manipulation or not, Ira and I were going down a slippery slope for a while. I'm far from innocent in all of this too, Anna. I lost control and had sex with her as you lay dying just a room away! And even now, after everything, how I feel for you hasn't changed!"

"But it should have." She countered, her voice cracking as she spoke. "You're too good of a man to let this fairy tale I created cloud your real judgement." Anna shook her head. "And to think I actually thought that this was the right thing to do for Misha. The way to go about it. I've only ever wanted to protect him."

"Anna…" Sergey said, reaching out to touch her. "You're a good mother. You've done more for him than most do for their kids."

The therapist stepped just out of his reach. "Well, now he has Polina. Someone who resonates with him in ways I never could." She stared blankly at the tall woodpile. "In the end, maybe I was meant to be alone. Neither of you were ever mine."

"This self pity has to stop." Sergey exhaled, growing frustrated. "Please, let's give it another chance. I want this, Anna. More than anything. Let's be happy again just like Polina and Misha." For a brief moment, the therapist met his gaze. Noticed the plea in his eyes. "We can start over."

Anna was quiet, her face completely void of any emotion. But after some consideration, she simply shook her head causing Sergey's stomach to twist. Turning away from him, the woman went back to the firewood. He watched as she began to collect the logs once more.

"I think you should go." She said sounding distant, almost as if she were in a dream-like state. "I can finish this on my own. I need some time to think."

Sergey didn't attempt to argue this time. Feeling crushed and defeated, he only nodded his head and began to trudge back towards the boat. Maybe it was time to accept that things with Anna had finally ended. That any hope of getting her back, repairing what was damaged, was a hopeless endeavor. Glancing one more time over his shoulder, he stomped the snow off his boots and headed inside. Trying shouldn't hurt so much.

* * *

"It's called a Pinard horn. It was developed in the 19th century to listen to fetal heartbeats. Sort of like a stethoscope in a way." Pavel smiled proudly as he held up the strange, wooden horn device. "I remember learning about it from a course in medical school where we discussed the developments of technology through the ages." His expression had taken on a sheepish look. "Now, I know I'm not the best craftsman by any means, but all things considered, I think this turned out alright. Especially since we have no access to a proper sonogram machine."

Polina looked at the slightly roughed up object incredulously. If anything, the damn thing would give her splinters. On the other hand, Misha was transfixed. When Pavel handed it over to him to get a closer look, he marveled at the object in his grasp. He glanced over to his wife who merely frowned in response.

"If that thing gives me any splinters," she began. "You're picking them out."

"It won't. I repurposed an already treated piece of wood...just altered the shape a bit." Pavel assured her before Misha could reply. "Now if you could just recline on the couch, I think that'll be the best position for this to work." The doctor seemed far giddier than the young woman could ever recall as she did as he said. "I'm going to need to lift up your shirt, but I promise that's the most exposed you'll be."

Polina's eyes never left Misha's as the doctor lifted up her shirt that had already begun to become too snug around her middle. Gently, he placed the object underneath her belly button and listened. When he pressed done a little harder than Polina was expecting, she winced at the sensation. Pavel didn't seem to notice her discomfort. Lips pressed into a thin line, he meticulously moved the wooden horn until abruptly stopping. A wide grin spread across his features as he tilted his head to meet the expecting mother's stare.

"We have a heartbeat." He said enthusiastically. "A strong one too. Misha, would you like to listen?"

Misha stepped forward and glanced over at Polina, almost as if waiting for approval. Then, he got on his knees and held the device to his ear. His mouth curved into a small, half smile as he sat there silently listening to the rhythmic beats of the heart. Polina craned her neck to watch him, jealous that he could participate when she couldn't.

"One hundred and thirty five beats per minute." Misha stated straightening up. "That's right in the middle, it's a good number." Of course he'd count, she'd expect nothing less.

"That's great." Polina sighed, forcing a smile. "Now can we take the thing off? Doesn't exactly feel all that comfortable."

She gingerly rubbed the spot where a round, light pink mark now bloomed. It was stupid how easily she bruised. Though it was well hidden, she'd come to know Misha well enough to identify his feelings to a certain degree. The way he stared at the spot left on her seemed almost guilt driven. Of all the boys she'd been with, Mish was the one who'd never want to hurt her. To be quite frank, she was sure he'd rather fling himself off a bridge than do that.

"At least we know it's alive." Polina stated, trying to distract Misha. "And has a heart. That's one less organ to worry about."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Anna was standing in the doorway watching them. When the other woman caught sight of Polina, she stepped out of sight. Exhaling through her nose, she pushed herself to sit back up. Eventually she was going to have to become face to face with her mother-in-law. The lake was only so big and the boat even smaller. The real question was, when exactly would their paths cross.

"So I was thinking…" Misha began as he followed his wife towards the steps.

"You're _always_ thinking, Misha." Polina pointed out with a shake of her head. "Anyway, continue."

"I know it's early, but maybe we should start thinking of names." That caused his wife to stop in her tracks. "You know," he continued. "So we can refer to it as something else other than _the baby_ or _it_.

"I thought people usually waited until after the kid arrived to name it." Polina spoke, beginning to ascend the stairs. As time wore on, doing so was becoming increasingly tiring. "And what's to say they hate the name we pick out?"

"Well, then they can legally change it to something else when they turn sixteen." He gave a small shrug. "With that aside, I'm sure we can come up with some reasonably suitable names. Don't you?"

Polina thought for a moment. "No Natashas or Anatasias." She replied firmly. "Both are way too popular and I haven't had exactly the best of luck befriending anyone with either of those names." Misha nodded in understanding. "Katiya isn't too horrible. Neither is Mila. Girl name-wise, I mean."

"Katiya is nice." Her husband agreed. "And if we so decided, we could call her Kate or Katie for short." Misha pursed his lips for a moment. "So Katiya if it's a girl. I've been thinking of a few names. Some of which have meaning behind them." Polina stared back at her husband intently, waiting for him to continue. "Nikolay after Nikolay Semyonov, a famous physicist and chemist who worked with chemical transformation."

"No." His wife interjected without a moment's hesitation. "I'm not naming our kid after some quack who played around with a chemistry set." She folded her arms over her chest. "What else do you have?"

Misha took a deep breath. "Dr. Semyonov wasn't fraudulent. He won a Nobel Prize. But if you don't like it, we can pick something else." The young man thought deeply for a moment. "Ivan? And before you interrupt and bring up Ivan the Terrible, I picked Ivan after the famous writer and poet, Ivan Bunin. He too got a Nobel Prize-in literature."

"Are all of your name choices from famous, dead figurines in history?" Polina smirked.

"No…" Misha admitted. "There is one name I like that doesn't have anything to do with science or literature." He paused for a moment. "Yevgeny."

"Yevgeny." His wife repeated, brows knitting together as she repeated it. "Why that?"

"I didn't have many friends when I was younger. Really none if I recall because, well...social interactions have never been my strong suit." He gave a small smile that Polina could almost swear held some sadness behind it. "There was this one boy. A neighbor. We became friends one day during lunch at school. He came over so much, it was like he lived at my house." Misha let out a long sigh. "That summer, my mom and I moved to Moscow for her new job-it wasn't uncommon for us to pick up and leave. But it was...difficult saying goodbye to my only friend. My best friend in the world. Yevgeny."

Polina met her husband's gaze. "Yevgeny is a good name." She decided, lightly grinning. "So Katiya if it's a girl and Yevgeny if it's a boy. I can't see how someone would find a way to make fun of those." She nodded in approval. "So we have names."

"We have names." Misha repeated. "Now to wait roughly six month to know which one to use."

"Twenty six weeks seems like forever, but if we've survived to fourteen, maybe we can make it to forty in one piece." She smirked lightly, leaning against him. "If my hormones don't cause me to go into a homicidal rage. But I wouldn't worry too much. I'm pretty sure my first target would be my dad. Even before this he had a talent for pushing my buttons."

"I cannot recall reading any notable cases where that happened, so I think we are okay." Misha assured her, Polina snorting softly in amusement at her husband's intellectual outlook on any situation, no matter how outlandish. "What?"

"Nothing." She smiled, putting an arm around him. "I just love you." Polina buried her face in his chest. No longer did Misha tense when she did this. He'd grown accustomed to her affection and worked hard to return it as much as he could. "Never change, Misha. Never change."

* * *

They were running out of food. The once well stocked pantry was nearly bare. While Sergey was skilled at catching fish alongside Lyonid, it wasn't enough to feed the ten people the boat house occupied. It was then, after a long night of discussion, that Sergey, Lyonid, and Misha would take the old snowmobiles left rusted in Boris's shed and try to seek some nearby civilization where they could shout for food. And though he argued to take the younger man's place, Pavel found himself staying behind. He was their only doctor after all and his skills weren't worth risking.

"No!" Polina snapped, folding her arms tightly over her chest. Now sixteen weeks pregnant, it was very clear that the young woman was expecting. She glowered at her husband as he put a thick coat on. "This is suicide! You can't go!"

"We need food." Misha replied calmly, slipping his boots on. "And we have weapons. If things get dangerous, we'll pull back." He thought for a minute, trying to figure out the best way to calm her down. "Do I seem nervous?" She shook her head roughly, her left foot tapping mindlessly on the ground. "No, I can do this. For us. I'm smart, Polina. A genius."

"Don't hold back the self praise." Polina said sarcastically with a watery smile. "If something happens to you. If you die out there. I will kill you."

"I don't see how that's logically possible, but if the idea eases you." Her husband replied as Polina kissed him deeply. Glancing over his shoulder at the window, his attention returned to her. "Noting the position of the sun, we'll either be back later tonight or in the morning. Don't wait up for me. You need your rest." Ever so carefully, he rested a hand on her stomach. "An apple."

"Now I'm craving one, thanks." Polina snorted, resting her hand over his.

Before her husband could reply, Leonid called out from the shed. Misha looked from the old shack and back to his wife. The greater part of him didn't want to leave. Being away from Polina was a big change, and that wasn't something he was accustomed to or liked. But he knew this needed to be done and his reasons for going out extended far past simply getting food.

"I love you." The young woman said, kissing her husband. "Please be careful."

"I love you too." Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out his mother watching him. He gave a nod of his head to which Anna responded with a tight smile. "Maybe I can find a can of apples."

"Or a chocolate bar?" Polina suggested hopefully as he left the house. "You know, if you just happen to see one laying around."

Misha gave a thumb's up as he climbed on the back of Sergey's snow-mobile. The engine sputtered violently as the man turned it on. For a second, the younger man couldn't help but imagine the thing exploding into a million pieces and him with it. But when they started across the lake, he felt somewhat relaxed. It wouldn't be long now before the ice melted and the group would be surrounded by water.

"I say we ditch the bikes in the woods and go on foot the rest of the way." Sergey called out to Leonid. "The map I have days there's a small town nearby. With our luck it's already been cleared out or crawling with soldiers, but it's our best shot. The next city is forty kilometers away."

"If you think it's a good idea, I suppose I'll go with it. But trust me, Sergey, if something happens, I'm kicking your ass." Leonid said over the roar of the engines. "Or to him too. Polina will have mine."

"I can handle myself." Misha said quietly. "If I recall correctly, it was me who helped you on more than one occasion."

The older man frowned slightly at his son-in-law's remark. "All the same." He continued, not countering Misha's words. "You're married to my daughter and mean a lot to her. And for that, despite our differences, I'm going to watch your back. My grandkid deserves both its parents."

Another hour or so passed before Sergey made the call to leave the mobiles hidden in a patch of fallen trees. Snow crunching softly underneath their boots, the three men made their way through the dimly lit forest and towards what seemed to be an old, seemingly long abandoned town.

"Was this place even running before the virus started?!" Leonid muttered as he kicked an empty can with his shoe. "It looks like a ghost town."

The familiar strips of yellow covered caution tape caught Misha's eyes. He pointed at it and both men followed his finger. So there were people at some point, not anymore. Carefully adjusting the weapon on his hip, Sergey led the party towards what appeared to be a general store. The windows were shattered-a sign that it was possibly over looted.

"Grab what you can." The man instructed as they stepped cautiously inside. "If you see something out of the ordinary, don't hesitate to react. People aren't as welcoming as they used to be."

As they began to search the store, a few cans among other non-perishables were found on empty shelves and on the ground. No canned apple or chocolate. Just as Misha headed down another aisle, something caught his attention. It was small, but there. A clothing section. And in the clothing section, to his surprise and excitement were baby outfits. He hurried over, nearly tripping over an empty beer bottle. He began shoving every outfit it could into his sack. No matter the size, shape, or color, he planned to take it all.

"That's not exactly food." He heard Leonid comment over his shoulder.

"I know." Misha explained breathlessly as he stuffed a teddy bear in his already bursting at the seams backpack. "But they're an essential." He glanced around the room. "Did you see any diapers?"

Leonid looked at him for a minute before sighing. "First Marina asks me to get her tampons, and now you want me to find you some diapers." The other man clicked his tongue, but began to make his way slowly down the aisles. "Sergey's gonna have to carry a bulk of this food if I'm helping out with baby supplies."

"And check for prenatal vitamins." Misha called out, not one for usually giving orders. "Maybe there are some around here. Pavel is running out of the other pills and Polina needs to take supplements. The development of a fetus can greatly be affected by the right vitamins."

"Yeah, I don't need a biology lesson, Textbook." Leonid said with a wave of his hand. "I trust you and your vast knowledge for science and random trivia." Locating some packs of diapers, he thrust them into his bag. "Are we about done here?"

"As cleared out as possible." Sergey sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Misha, think there's enough light to head back or should we bunker down until the morning."

Misha glanced out towards the empty street. He knew Polina would worry if they didn't return home tonight, but he also knew traveling in the dark could be treacherous. It was better to return late than not alive.

"We should stay here for the night." He told the other two. "Judging by the sun's position in the sky, it would be dark by the time we reach the woods...I think that statistically speaking, it would be best if we left at dawn instead."

Though Misha knew his logic was solid, his mind still wandered back to Polina. How she would handle spending the night alone in their bed. Since their marriage, they truly hadn't spent time apart. As he settled down against some empty shelves, using his backpack as a pillow, once more he tried to reason with himself that all was well. That she would be just fine without him. That only hours separated them from a reunion. Yet still, as he allowed his eyes to close, the thoughts lingered. Until she came into his life, Misha hadn't fully grasped what it meant to miss someone. But at that moment, there wasn't anyone else he'd rather see standing before him.

So he pictured her in his face. Those wide, blue eyes and perfectly straight, pale blonde hair. The way she smiled. Rolled her eyes when he said something she found amusing. How when she laughed he actually felt something within him. Something good. And her soft lips against his. The way each kiss felt new and exciting, leaving him wanting more and more. He focused on the images, allowing them to replay over and over until they were fuzzy from exhaustion. Soon, like the other two men, Misha fell into a deep slumber. Completely and utterly unaware of what would soon befall the trio.


	3. Chapter Three

"When's Papa coming back?" Anton asked, digging into his meager portion of oatmeal. "It's been hours."

"They're probably staying in the town for the night." Ira said, smoothing her son's hair down lovingly. "I'm sure they will be back first thing in the morning." Her eyes flickered to the other three adults. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Polina, you need to eat. It's important for the baby's development." Pavel commented gently, noting as the girl just pushed around the grayish slop with her spoon."I'm sure Misha is okay." His attention momentarily switched to Anna who looked equally as uncertain. "We've all survived much worse, haven't we?"

Not bothering to look up, Polina stood from the table. Running a hand through her hair, she expressed her lack of hunger and stated anyone was welcome to have her leftovers if they so chose. It wasn't until she was halfway down the hallway that she heard someone approach from behind.

"When Misha was three, we were at an outdoor playground. I turned away for one minute to grab his cup of juice, and when I looked back, he was gone."

Anna stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Polina was shocked to say the least. It had been months since the other woman had really acknowledged her existence much less spoken to her.

"I went into full panic mode. I thought that maybe he was taken. That it was all my fault." She shook her head. "I was about to call the police when another parent found him sitting inside of a slide. All calm, completely unaware of what just happened."

"...I never picked Misha as someone being a fan of slides." Polina spoke up.

Her mother-in-law chuckled. "I suppose what I'm getting at is that whenever Misha is gone, I worry about him. Just like that day on the playground." She chewed on her bottom lip. "I thought you could maybe use some company. It's nice to share one's burden rather than carry it alone."

The younger woman nodded her head. "Yeah." She replied softly. "I'd like that. I was going upstairs, but if you'd like to sit by the fire for a bit...it would be nice to focus on something else."

The two women made their way to the sitting room taking opposite chairs. Polina sighed softly as the heat from the flames fought away the cold draft of the house.

"Polina…" Anna began after a long silence. "I want to apologize for my behavior. I know I have been standoffish and rude-to put it mildly, and you haven't deserved it. I haven't felt like myself for a while, but that isn't any excuse to take it out on either you or Misha. Especially you."

"Can't say I blame you. I didn't give off the best impression when we met." Polina replied with a small smile. "And I know how important Misha is to you. But he is important to me too." She exhaled, watching the flames dance in an orange glow. "Things have changed, and I'd never do anything to hurt him. I love him."

"I know you do." Her mother-in-law agreed. "And I've seen the way he looks at you. With Aspergers, an individual might struggle when it comes to emotions. Misha has had his own difficulties that we've worked on and through most of his life, but with you, I can tell he's genuinely happy. In the end, that's all I want for him." She caught Polina's attention, holding it with her own. "I'd like to start over fresh. Build a better relationship." The woman smiled thoughtfully. "We are family now after all."

Just as Polina was about to reply, she felt something stir deep within her. Something small. A flutter. A series of bubbles being popped. Placing her hand over the spot, her breath hitched in her throat.

"Polina?" Anna said, beginning to stand up. "Is something wrong?!"

"No." The younger woman smiled, shaking her head. "No, I think...I think I just felt the baby kick." She waited, trying to focus on the feeling. When it happened again, Polina was confident. "Yeah...it's moving!"

Her mother-in-law beamed at the other woman. "It's the best feeling in the world, isn't it?"

"Yes." Polina smiled, touching the spot. Though it was still too early to feel from the outside, she knew where the child was squirming about. "It really is."

* * *

"Check the bags and see what they have. Take anything of value, I don't care what it is."

Misha slowly regained consciousness as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. His ears rang and no matter how hard he covered them, the sound didn't stop. It felt as if a brick or some blunt object had struck him hard in the head. Something wet trickled down his temple. Gingerly, he touched the side of his head and drew his hand back. Blood.

"H-hey!" He called out weakly, noticing a figure digging through his bag. "Don't touch it! Please!"

From what little light seeped into the building, Misha made out three men who stood towering over their supplies. Off to the side, he could just make out the bodies of Sergey and Lyonid lying motionless on the ground. He was too far to see any signs of if they were okay. Instead, Misha was treated to a boot to his nose. The young man yelped and held his face blood began to ooze from each nostril. Clearly it was broken.

"It doesn't have your name on it." The man who injured him sneered. "You got a little one, do ya?" He held up one of the tiny outfits. "These are desperate times. Sometimes you gotta be unique with the meat you eat. It's a developed taste, kinda like chicken but tougher."

Normally Misha was very decisive. It was how his mind had and always did work. But for some reason at the mention of cannibalizing his own child, the young man found himself filled with a sense of rage that he'd never experienced before. For a minute, he forgot about logic. His mind thriving on endorphins as he quickly rose to his feet and tackled the unsuspecting man to the ground.

Almost instantly, he was thrown off and knocked towards his companions. Gasping, the wind knocked out of him, he did his best to survey the damage done to both men. Thankfully, he could see they were both breathing. Though how long they'd remain out, Misha was unsure.

"I honestly didn't have the energy to kill someone today. Thought of taking the day off. A man needs a good vacation like that." He smirked as he looked at the other assailants. "But now since you felt the need to attack me…" Misha watched in horror as the man lifted up a lead pipe. "I think I'll be leaving you here in a few pieces."

Misha scrambled backwards as the intruder approached. He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate as claustrophobia found him in his cornered state. But just as the stranger raised the pipe ready to strike, someone kicked him square in the knee. Sergey sat up and spit a mouthful of dirt and blood as his opponent howled. Lyonid too had begun to stir, one eye opened, the other blackened and swollen shut from a bruise.

The injured man charged Sergey, but he was surprisingly quick on his feet. Using all of his weight, he shoved the man back. The robber stumbled and tripped over a shattered bottle. With a sickening thud, his head hit the ground. Now it was two against three.

"Misha, get up!" Sergey grunted as he grabbed the closet object to him. A wooden broom. "Go!"

The younger man shook his head almost instantly at the other's request. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see something sharp and glinting in one of their hands. Sergey seemed to notice it too as he knocked the knife wielding thief out of the way, the blade just centimeters from grazing his neck.

"Misha, go!" Sergey instructed more forcefully. "Get out of here!"

Lyonid had finally made it onto his feet, though appearing very disoriented. As he took note of the damaged bags and the possibly lifeless body on the ground, he seemed to put two and two together. In one fluid motion, he lifted a brick off the ground and aimed it at the other man, missing his mark. Misha felt lost as he stood there almost defenseless. When his eyes fell onto his backpack, at the clothes and other baby objects that spilled from its opening, he made a dive for it.

"Misha!"

Right as he fell to the ground, arms wrapping protectively around the sack, he heard a gurgling noise. To his horror, there stood Lyonid. That shiny, sharpened piece of metal embedded in his throat. It took Misha only a moment to realize the man had been heading for him when his father-in-law jumped in the way. In his attempt to protect the younger man, a fatal error was made.

"Let's go!" The murderer shouted to the other one. "We got what we came for."

"What about them?" His partner questioned, pointing to where Sergey and Misha had gathered on the floor, desperately trying to stop Lyonid's bleeding. "We can't just leave them alive, can we?!"

"Forget about them. They'll die soon anyways!" He called out, running towards the broken set of doors. "And you'll be next if you keep it up."

As their footsteps grew distant, Misha stared down at Lyonid wide eyed. Sergey was pleading with him, his hands pressed on the gushing wound. The younger man knew it wouldn't help. An artery had been severed and not even Pavel would've been able to save him. Instead, he could only watch as the light began to fade from the older man's one good eye. Listen to, but ignore Sergey's instructions on what needed to be done.

"Polina…" Lyonid managed to choke out. "Marina…"

"I'll watch over them." Sergey promised, trying to remain strong. "You don't have to worry." His eyes flickered over to Misha whose eyes seemed fixed on nothing. "We both will."

Lyonid fell silent after that. His chest no longer rising and falling with each breath. Sergey closed his friend's eye and sat down on the ground. It looked as if he had dipped his hands in red paint. Misha found himself rocking back and forth, the ringing beginning to sound in his ears once more.

"Grab his bag." The other man said quietly, rising to his feet. "They didn't take everything."

"Lyonid is dead." Misha said slowly, trying to process the news. "His body's too heavy to bring back. What are we going to tell Polina?"

"I told you to run." Sergey said, his voice dangerously low. "Now grab his bag. We need to get out of here in case they come back."

Misha did as he was told that time. Gripping both the now lighter bag of canned goods and his baby supplies, he followed Sergey out into the cold. Neither of them spoke as they made their way out of the dilapidated town. When they finally reached the snow mobiles, Misha said nothing as he climbed onto the other vehicle. Carefully, he secured his bag, making sure that everything would stay in place.

In a matter of seconds, they were speeding off. Misha's eyes remained forward as he tried not to think of Lyonid's cold, dead body on the ground and what he would have to tell his wife when they arrived home.

* * *

Polina leaned over the toilet and vomited when Sergey explained in little detail what had become of her father. Misha sat beside her on the edge of the tub hearing Marina's loud wails of anguish coming from another room. Anna was with her, her old demeanor kicking in as she comforted the widow. Pavel had offered to look the younger man's face over, concerned by the swelling from where his nose had broken, but Misha had refused.

"We have to go back!" Polina said through a mess of tears. "We can't just leave him there to rot!" She stared at her husband in desperation. "He needs to be properly buried! He needs…"

Leaning over the toilet again, she emptied the contents of her stomach out. The news had hit her much harder than Misha had expected and her reaction stirred what he could only assume to be worry. Gently, he rested a hand on her back as Polina coughed, grimacing as the bile burned the back of her throat.

"We can't go back. It's not safe." Sergey explained. "I'm sorry. Lyonid was my friend and you know that if I could, we'd be giving him the burial he deserves. But I promised him I'd protect both you and Marina, and I'm not going back on his last wish."

"Five months…" Polina whimpered. "Five fucking months he's was going to be a grandfather and the asshole had to go and die! Five months!" She began to pound the toilet seat letting out a scream. "First mom and now him! I hate him! I hate every stupid thing about him!"

"Polina." Pavel said gently. "You don't mean that-"

"Don't tell me what I do and don't mean!" She hissed, her eyes snapping up to glare daggers at the doctor. "He abandoned me. Abandoned all of us. But this time he isn't coming back!" She buried her head in her hands. "He's gone…"

"Misha, why don't you take Polina upstairs?" Ira suggested quietly. "After everything, you both could probably use some rest."

The young man nodded his head and took his wife's hand. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away. As if in defeat, she allowed Misha to lead her out of the bathroom and in the direction of their room. While he watched her crawl into bed, Misha decided that maybe it was best he never told Polina what really happened. That maybe, if it hadn't been for him, Lyonid would still be alive. But the man was dead, and would never be back. Somethings were better left unsaid.

"I found some stuff while I was gone…" Misha said quietly. "When we were out…"

"If it's food, I'm not interested or hungry." Polina muttered, burying her face into her pillow. "You can go now. I'm fine. I'd rather be alone."

He pursed his lips at her words remembering how his mother would talk about the importance of companionship in times of crisis. How it wasn't good to be alone. While he tried to block out her advice, her therapist nature always irritating when it was used on him, Misha considered that perhaps in this circumstance maybe there was reason to her ways. Not offering any sort of reply, he exited the room only to return with his backpack.

"It's yellow, your favorite color."

Misha held up a small onesie spotted with tiny, white polka dots. Polina lifted up her head, eyeing the piece of clothing. Slowly sitting up, she took it from him. Feeling the fabric between her fingers, she held the outfit close.

"You found this for me?" She asked softly.

Misha nodded and tipped the rest of the contents of the bag out on the bed. Until that moment, he hadn't exactly realized how much stuff he grabbed. Polina sat there quietly, going through each and every piece, sorting it by size. A small smile briefly crossed her lips as she held up a thick, fuzzy brown pram that, when worn, would make a baby look like a teddy bear."

"This is my favorite." Polina stated, admiring the outfit. "He'll wear this a lot."

"He'll?" Misha inquired, confused by her choice in pronoun. "There is no way of knowing the gender now. Not until they're born."

"I have a gut feeling." His wife said, her eyes still fixed on the pram. "We're having a boy." She sniffed softly, rubbing under her nose with the back of her hand. "...I didn't have a chance to tell you today what happened last night because, you know…" Polina couldn't bring herself to say it. "I felt the baby kick. Your mom was there when it happened. It was the weirdest thing, but like in the best way possible...Does that make any sense?"

It didn't really, but he wasn't about to admit that. "It does to you and that's what's important." She gave him an odd look before her expression changed to one of guilt and concern. "I didn't even see how you were!" Polina leaned over, studying her husband's face carefully. "Christ, Misha, what the hell did they do to you?!"

"Well, I suppose they must've hit me to knock me out. My ears were ringing when I woke up so I'm assuming I have a mild case of Tinnitus. Then I was kicked in the face leading to my nose breaking or bruising badly." He saw Polina's eyes grow wide as he calmly listed his symptoms. "I might be at risk for a concussion…but I haven't really experienced any feelings associated with that."

"You need to let Pavel look at you." Polina said with a frown. "You should've let him do so the moment you came home…" She paused. "Despite everything." Her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with pram outfit's zipper. "I lost my dad today, Misha. If something happened to you...I...I'm not sure what I'd do."

"Well, none of the injuries I sustained are life threatening." He assured her in the best way he figured would suit. "So unless something unexpected happens, I don't see myself going anywhere any time soon." His eyes glanced down at the swell of her stomach. "I want to be there for Yevgeny."

Polina smiled when he said the name. "I want you to be there for Yevgeny too." Gently, she took his hand and rested it on her stomach. Though he could feel nothing yet, it was oddly comforting. "And I want his middle name to be Lyonya after my father. If we can't bury him, at least we can honor him this way."

Misha nodded in agreement. It was a reasonable suggestion. "If that's what you want, that can be his middle name." Polina smiled at him, her eyes welling up once more. In return, ran his thumb across the top of her hand. "Even though there is no way of us knowing the baby's genome sequence, I hope he has your eyes."

It was moments like this where Misha, somewhat unintentionally, said something truly heartfelt. Polina smiled, kissing him lovingly. Her husband was somewhat caught off guard by her advances, but seemingly welcomed them all the same.

"Only if he has your freckles." She countered, cuddling in close to him. "A blue eyed boy with freckles running around this place. Maybe he'll even give Anton a run for his money…" Polina closed her eyes. "Poor Marina…" The younger woman murmured. "We've had our differences, but she's still family." She couldn't help but think back to what happened after her stepmother had lost her own baby.

"My mother will take care of her." Misha said quietly. "She seems to be recovering from her own struggles. And though I find it nearly unbearable to deal with her when she's talking to me like one of her patients, I do not doubt Marina is in good hands. And you know I would tell you otherwise if I thought not."

"Maybe I'll let her look at the baby clothes with me tomorrow." His wife mumbled tiredly, completely worn out from grieving her father. "She's excited about the baby. Maybe going through all of this stuff will help keep her mind busy."

"If my mom considers her to be in the right mindset." Misha responded, tugging the blanket over the two of them. Now even he was beginning to feel the tendrils of sleep pull at his consciousness. "I read in a book once that the human psyche is a fragile thing. Though, I can't quite say that I believe in that-the whole part involving a soul and such."

"Mhm…" Polina mumbled, not listening to Misha as he rambled on about the legitimacy behind some psychological studies. "I get your point." She said this having absolutely no idea what point he'd just come across. "I'm sorry, Misha...I don't think I can stay awake for much longer."

"That's alright, we can talk more when you are well rested." Misha assured her, to which Polina softly grunted into his shirt. "From what you've told me and what I've grown to recognize from knowing you, today was an overly emotional day for you. Get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay." The girl murmured, already out of it. "Don't go anywhere."

"As long as you need me to." He assured her, resting a hand on her back. "...I love you, Polina."

"...You too, Misha…"

And with that, his wife drifted off to sleep. But unlike her father, her chest still rose and fell with every breath. She wasn't still, but snored softly and shifted against him every once in a while. Lyonid was dead. Kilometers away on the cold ground. Yet here in his arms was his daughter, Polina, very much alive. Warm right here in their bed. Misha held her close as he watched her sleep, trying his best to fight his own exhaustion.

It still felt surreal. This life they had created together. The fact that she accepted him even though he was different in every way from any guy she had ever been with. They were together. Married. And expecting a child no less. Misha had never imagined such a path happening for him in his life, and yet, though he did not like change, he greatly welcomed this one with open arms.

Holding her close, he watched the shadows dance off a nearby wall. Just as Sergey had, he'd made a promise to his dying father-in-law. One that Misha would make sure that he'd hold true. He'd keep Polina safe. No matter what that entailed.


	4. Chapter Four

Despite all of the hardships, young Anton seemed to be adjusting to this new way of life far better than most adults would. Though he missed his friends terribly, and school of all things, he'd taken to doing what he could to occupy himself. His imagination grew through paper and pencil and to the ship he was certain once belonged to a pirate he now lived in.

A few days had passed since the man he knew as Uncle Lyonid had died. No one really told him how, which was rather irritating. He wasn't a baby. He was old enough to be let in on the others' conversations...at least the boy felt that way. Still, Anton found himself saddened by the older man's death. And like any child would, he sought the comfort of his mother.

"Mama?" Anton said, twisting the door handle of her room. "Mama, are you in there?"

There was the sound of shuffling as the young boy pushed the door open. There, sitting up in bed, a blanket pulled up to her chest, reclined Ira. Her hair was somewhat tousled, cheeks rosier than normal, but he innocently assumed it was because she'd just woken up. Pavel stumbled into sight, the doctor awkwardly trying to adjust his pants. He gave Anton a friendly smile, hoping the kid was oblivious to the events that transpired before his unexpected appearance.

"Uncle Pavel?" Anton inquired, tilting his head slightly in confusion. "You've come to visit Mama too?"

The couple looked at one another as if hoping the other would speak up first. Though when it seemed they'd mentally agreed on Ira taking the lead, the doctor spoke up before the woman could.

"Actually, I wanted to ask her if I could take you on a little adventure." The doctor smiled. "A mission if you will. That is, if you are up to the task." He glanced over his shoulder at Ira, gauging her reaction. "Are you interested?"

"Will it be dangerous?!" Anton asked excitedly. "Oh please, Mama, let me go with Uncle Pavel! I promise to be careful!"

"Oh, it is very challenging indeed." But Pavel shook his head just enough for Ira to be assured it was safe. "And I don't think I can do it alone."

"Just stay close to Uncle Pavel." Ira stated, smiling as her son grinned wildly. "And listen to what he says. He's in charge." Meeting her lover's gaze, the corners of her mouth twitched into a small smirk. "Be careful." She playfully warned. "He's a handful."

"I've been told I'm quite talented with children." Pavel assured her with a laugh. "Well, for the most part, I can administer a shot faster than a patient can manage to realize. And I am quite generous with lollipops."

"That's quite a resume." The woman teased, still covering her bare body from her son's view. "I'm interested in hearing more later."

Pavel's ears flushed red as Anton tugged at the man's arm impatiently. Stuttering over a response, he merely nodded at her request and turned his attention to the boy. It would be good to spend time with Ira's son. He was, after all, the most important thing in her life. And if their relationship continued in the direction it was going, he'd best start now with developing a bond.

"Grab your coat." The doctor instructed. "It's a little cold out there."

Giving Ira one final smile, he slipped on a shirt and followed Anton. The boy bounded out of the room and down the steps at an incredible speed, slipping on his jacket before the doctor's first foot touched the ground floor. Putting on his own coat, he grabbed a small pail and shovel resting underneath a small side table. The child eyed him curiously, but said nothing as they exited the house.

"What are we doing?" Anton inquired, doing his best to keep up with Pavel's pace. "Why do you have that?"

"We're doing something special." The man explained, looking down at the boy. "At least, that's the intention." He stopped walking for a minute and began to scan the area. Though there was less snow on the ground than usual, he still struggled to find what he was searching for. "I could've sworn I saw them...Oh good! There they are!"

Anton excitedly followed Pavel's finger as he pointed to what they were looking for. Instantly, the smile faded from his face and was replaced by an incredulous look. Danger. A challenge. What the boy saw instead was anything but that. A measly patch of white flowers that broke through the frozen ice. He noticed how their blooms bowed down, almost as if _they_ were disappointed _for_ him.

"Flowers?" The child exclaimed, brows furrowing as he trudged after the man. "What's so special about a flower? I thought we were doing something fun! Picking flowers isn't fun, Uncle Pavel."

"But these aren't just any kind of flower." Pavel exclaimed as he knelt down and began to dig into the snow. "These are Snowdrops. One of the few flowers that actually prefers this sort of environment." Gingerly, with roots still intact, he placed a patch into the bucket. "We're going to plant them outside of the house. They'll look good there."

"Papa used to give Mama bouquets…" Anton mumbled. "But he never planted the flowers."

"Well, we're doing this for Marina and Polina." The doctor said, ignoring how numb his hands were growing from fiddling with the clumps of snow. "In honor of Lyonid. See, Anton, every flower represents something. These…" He motioned to the Snowdrops. "Symbolize rebirth and overcoming challenges. I think we could all use a little of that." He chuckled to himself. "I gardened a little in my spare time. It's surprising what you pick up."

Anton was silent for a moment as if considering the doctor's words. "Are you and my Mama going to have a baby?"

Pavel choked on air, completely blindsided by the boy's inquiry. "Why would you ask that?" Had Anton realized what was really going on in his mother's room? Surely he hadn't...He _hoped_ he hadn't.

The boy merely shrugged. "Uncle Lyonid and Aunt Marina almost had a baby. Polina and Misha are having one." His eyes met those of the doctor's, expression nonchalant. "I was just wondering is all."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Pavel forced a faux smile. "Let's hurry and get these back to the boat." He said, completely avoiding Anton's question. "We need to get them nice and planted so they'll stay nice and healthy."

Anton nodded his head, thankfully not pressing the matter further. Talking about babies with Ira was one thing-though the topic had yet to come up, but discussing such a subject with her son was far down on his list. Making sure his hold on the bucket was good, he trailed behind the boy. Babies. Why couldn't it be about the flowers?

* * *

"For something so delicate and dainty, they sure are resilient."

Though her eyes never left the clusters of flowers that had begun to spread from their original spot, Polina knew Misha was standing behind her. She came out here a lot since her father died those many weeks back. It had become a place of comfort, and she and Marina both had taken to tending to their little garden of sorts. Not that the plants needed any help. Still, it made her feel closer to her father. In a way, it was as far as she'd ever get.

"My mom made some soup for lunch. When I couldn't find you inside, I came to the conclusion you were with the flowers." He sat down beside her on an old towel she had sprawled out on the ground. "Are you going to come in?" Polina shook her head, so Misha tried a different approach. "I could bring you some out here if you like."

"I'm feeling kinda nauseous." She admitted. "Like I did when I had morning sickness." Misha reached up and felt her forehead, touching his own as a means to compare. "I'm not sick." The young woman snorted, rolling her eyes in amusement. "Just not in the mood for food."

"Nutrients are important for the baby's development and your health." Her husband stated in his usual, factual manner. "And today you're officially twenty weeks, the exact equivalent to five months." His eyes flickered down to her stomach which had grown considerably in comparison to before. "The baby is roughly the size of a banana. I know you prefer fruit comparisons than actual numbers."

"It helps me visualize him better." Polina smiled, patting her bump affectionately. "And before you say anything, I only mean the size. I realize our baby doesn't look like a piece of fruit." For a moment, she looked mildly concerned. "...But in all seriousness, there isn't a chance he'd come out all misshapen like that, right?" As Misha opened his mouth to reply, she quickly held up her hand. "No. Stop. I don't want to hear about any disorders or random percentages on even the smallest thing being wrong with him."

"He won't look like a banana when he's born." Her husband assured her, ending the discussion on that note. "But you should have some soup. It's good and I have no bias, even though she is my mom. Though being raised by her, I am more likely to find her meals palatable as I grew up consuming them."

Polina rolled her eyes and gave a small, lopsided grin. "If I go eat a little something, will you quit with your diet suggestions? It's like there are two doctors here, not just Pavel."

"While I do hold a considerable amount of knowledge both in biology and anatomically, I never saw myself pursuing a medical career. I wouldn't be comfortable with having to interact with patients. Though I commend Pavel and his abilities." His attention turned towards the Snowdrops. "I would've liked to have done something with engineering. Aeronautical." He looked back at her. "Working with aircrafts."

"Like drones." Polina smirked, hinting back to the night they first met.

Misha's ears turned red as he nodded swiftly. "Yes." He agreed, unable to meet her stare. "Like drones." He too recalled that night very well. Although, unlike Polina, he found no amusement in it. "You agreed to eat something."

"Yeah, yeah...Alright." His wife muttered, rolling her eyes in response. "You're going to have to help me up. It's getting harder to do certain things now. Especially when _you_ kick my bladder." She poked her stomach lightly. "I could really go for some pelmenis right now. I'm guessing I can't request for that to be put on the menu?"

"Flour has a shelf life of eight months." Her husband stated, pulling her up into a standing position. "Six if the bag is opened or not properly stored." Their fingers interlocked as they walked towards the front door. "All the bags we found while scavenging were damaged. The risks of you getting sick from mold or any other bacteria within was too concerning."

Polina stopped in her tracks, her hand slipping out of Misha's grasp. She frowned at him, arms folding over her chest. He looked back in confusion, glancing over his shoulder at the boat house before returning his attention to his wife.

"You act like I'm so fragile like a daisy, but I'm just as tough as those Snowdrops!"

"...I don't think I've ever compared you to a flower, nor have I called you one." Misha said slowly, struggling to grasp the symbolism behind her words. "It is very evident that you are not a flower."

"I _know_ I'm not a flower! That's not what I'm trying to say!" His wife groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I love you, Misha, but believe it or not, you are capable of being stupid! I'm pregnant, not incapacitated. You don't need to coddle me like a child."

"Polina…" He tried to interrupt.

"You can't say my chances of dying in childbirth are slim, but then claim an expired sack of wheat could be my end all." She shook her head. "I know you. I know your facts. I know knowing them is reassuring to you and can calm you down. But I also know that I've been through some crazy shit and survived." Her mouth curved just the slightest upward. "Let's eat some soup and then do something to stimulate your brain that doesn't involve you focusing on nitty gritty facts. Put the textbook away, babe. Just for a bit."

"I'm not capable in deciding how my mind processes…" Misha tried to explain. "I mean well. I did not realize I was annoying you...I'm not good at comprehending emotion and…" He was silenced by Polina's mouth as she pulled him into a gentle kiss.

"It's okay." She assured him softly. "I know. You don't have to explain yourself, Misha. I love you for you. Nothing will change that, even if I'm a bit bitchy at times." Playing with the front of his jacket, she offered him a genuine smile. "Let's go in. It'll be nice having something not cooked by Marina."

Misha nodded and took hold of her hand again. Together, they walked back into the house, the door closing slowly from behind.

* * *

Polina studied herself in the mirror that was built into the side of the dresser. Her hands rested against her stomach and a small smile flickered across her face. More weeks had gone by in a blur and as time passed, the tiny being within her grew. Before all of this, she had never wanted kids. When her father explained that Marina was supposedly carrying his child, her sister, the thought disgusted her. But now as she saw herself, swollen belly in all, anxiety and excitement filled her like a kid waiting for Christmas morning.

"Wow, you're really showing. It's like you got bigger overnight."

Marina stood in the doorway, her smile soft as she watched her step-daughter. Polina chuckled, turning away from the mirror to face her. Despite everything the other woman had gone through, Marina had been the most supportive person by far-with the exception of Misha, from the very beginning.

"He's kicking." She chuckled, walking over to Marina's side. "Here. Feel."

Polina placed the woman's hand over the spot. On contact, Marina felt the baby move against her palm. A sense of sadness washed over her, but she forced a smile on her face. For Polina, she always pretended to be happy. Never jealous. Never angry. Never questioning why the girl was going to have a child while hers never stood a chance.

"He moves a lot more when Misha is around. Especially when he talks. Apparently babies can recognize their parents' voices. But when I try to sing, it's like he gets all agitated." Polina smirked and shook her head. "I think Misha agrees with him in that department. I might even be unintentionally turning him against music. Don't want that."

"I'm sure you're not that bad." Marina smiled. "Maybe he'll like your singing more when he's born."

Polina huffed softly in amusement. "It's weird having someone reassure you instead of being brutally honest. I love Misha, but he will correct you if you say even the slightest misinformation. He knows everything and doesn't intentionally rub it in your face, but when your hormones are raging…" She exhaled, resting a hand on her stomach. "It takes _a lot_ not to stomp on his foot. Or punch him. But I manage. Guess all that rehab dad stuck me did something after all."

"He loved you." Marina said, taking her hands in hers. "I know you had your differences, but he did love you so much."

"I was a pretty shitty daughter." Polina admitted quietly. "I did a lot of hurtful things. I'm surprised he kept me around even after I became legal." She paused, her eyes locking onto Marina's. "I was pretty shitty to you."

"At least you didn't trick a stranger into thinking he was the father of your child." The other woman said, her head turning to gaze towards the window. "Or be his mistress while his wife lay brain dead in the hospital."

Polina said nothing for a moment, and Marina feared that she overstepped. "Well…" The girl began, finally breaking the tension. "I set a room on fire once causing the sprinklers to turn on and damage a lot of the furniture."

Both women stared at each other before Polina started to laugh. The sound was infectious and Marina too found herself falling victim to a fit of giggles. Bonding over who was a crappier person wasn't perhaps the greatest of games. But for what it was worth, it sure as hell did them both some good. As her laughter began to fade, Polina smiled softly at her step mother.

"I need to ask you something important." She said inhaling deeply. "Or rather, promise me something."

"Of course!" Marina nodded vigorously, taking the girl in her arms. "Anything. You name it!"

"If something happens and it comes down to it, make sure the baby is saved." Polina's tone was low, far more serious than the other woman had ever heard. "I don't care what happens to me in childbirth, you make sure Pavel saves my baby."

"Polina…" The other woman whispered, letting her go to take a step back. "I can't…"

"You can. And you will." Polina said firmly. "You would've given your life for your child, wouldn't you?" To which Marina nodded without hesitation. "Then you understand. The baby's life over mine. If Misha tries to intervene, find a way to stop him. This isn't about me anymore."

"What am I supposed to say to all of this?!" Marina exclaimed, her expression riddled with anxiety. "How am I…"

"Just say yes." Her step-daughter cut in. "Say yes and bring it up with no one. Especially Misha. I don't need something like this to overstimulate and push him off the edge. He doesn't need to think about me willing to die if it means our child lives. I don't think he can handle that…" She sucked in a heavy breath. "Please, Marina. I'm begging you. Promise to do this if it comes down to it."

Marina swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat. Polina stared back at her with pleading eyes. A look of pure desperation. She thought back to that fateful day. That horrible, dreadful moment where her beautiful baby girl was placed in her arms stillborn. How she would've died a thousand deaths if it meant her daughter could live. Marina sighed and, biting her lower lip, slowly nodded in agreement. The woman didn't move when Polina's arms flew around her.

"Thank you." The expecting mother whispered. "Just thank you."

"Just swear to me you'll try not to die, okay?" Marina replied quietly. "You're the only family I have."

Polina nodded her head. "I love you, Marina."

The woman fought back tears at the girl's words. Never before had Polina told her that. She could only let out a shaky exhale and hold her step-daughter close. The women stood there caught in a tight embrace. As they did, only one thought came to Marina's mind. How she truly wished Lyonid was here to see them right now in this moment. She closed her eyes and focused on it. How happy he'd be.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed! Chapters will be released often and will be 3,000 to 4,000 words roughly in length. Reviews and greatly loved and appreciated! Let's build this fandom up!


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